


A Damned Long Week

by thoughtfullightcollection



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Depression, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 06:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13969044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtfullightcollection/pseuds/thoughtfullightcollection
Summary: Phil comes home after Mother's Day weekend on the Isle of Man





	A Damned Long Week

**Author's Note:**

> Phil comes home after Mother's Day weekend on the Isle of Man

Phil arrives home from the North on the Monday evening following Mother’s Day, with his suitcase full of dirty laundry and a tin full of his mum’s cakes in tow. When the taxi slows to a stop at the front of the block of flats containing his and Dan’s apartment, he glances up to the windows of their flat and sees only black glass reflecting the street lamps rather than the warm light he’d expected to welcome him home. Frowning, he pays the taxi driver for the trip-the tip calculated to the penny- and retrieves his belongings from the car’s boot. 

He makes his way inside the building and into the lift where he’d taken the picture of Dan a few weeks back. That night, tipsy and sleepy from celebrating Cornelia’s birthday, Phil had looked over at Dan-in his earrings and sequined jacket-and the sight of him had stolen Phil’s breath away. He knew Dan was gorgeous, of course he knew, but it was so easy to get caught up in the busy day to day of their lives and their work and forget to really look at each other. At that moment, though, he’d turned his head and was struck by Dan’s beauty, awed by his perfect curls and soft lips and that damned sexy earring Phil always wanted to nibble at, and he’d needed to capture how perfect Dan had looked in that moment. Dan had laughed, and posed for the photo, then posted it on twitter to drive their audience wild. Phil couldn’t blame them, Dan never failed to drive him wild when he put his mind to it. That night they'd stayed up late necking and giggling like teenagers-Phil nipping at Dan’s earring and making him laugh then moan-and then they’d fallen into sleep in each other’s arms, laughing. 

It wasn’t long after that night that the shit had hit the fan. Dan had been on edge for weeks and then he’d made that video, the one he’d thought he’d gotten right only to find out that he was wrong. His audience hadn’t focused on what Dan had planned for them to as they’d watched and he’d gotten angry and his pride was bruised. But then he’d seen what was being said, what their audience was speculating was the “true” meaning behind the video and Dan had panicked. Ignoring Phil’s advice, Dan had done that disastrous live show and, as Phil had feared, it had made everything ten times worse for him. 

Phil, who could always see both sides of a coin, saw a hurting and angry Dan on one side and understood why he felt the way he did. He’d worked hard to share a message he found important with his audience, but he’d made a mistake while doing it. Or, no, not a mistake. Dan had alluded to something he wasn’t ready to handle the response to. And Phil also saw a hurting and angry audience on the other side and he understood them as well. So he’d done damage control, he had done it before and would no doubt do it again, and it seemed that everyone had begun to calm down. Everyone apart from Dan. Dan was still on edge, still angry and sad and frustrated. He wasn’t sleeping, instead he paced the floor of the upstairs lounge all night thinking Phil couldn’t hear him. He wasn’t eating, no matter how Phil tried to bribe him with takeaways. Dan couldn’t sit still, couldn’t turn off his brain for even a second and Phil worried. 

When Mother’s Day rolled around Dan had informed Phil that he’d be staying home for the holiday to take care of some of the details of their tour. Phil wasn't fooled so easily and had tried to convince Dan to join him on the Isle of Man or to visit his own mother. 

“C’mon Dan, the tour stuff can wait a couple of days. Go see your family or come see mine. The sea air would do you good and Mum would be thrilled to see you.”

But Dan was having none of it. 

“I’m not going home for the holiday, Phil. Mum knows we’re busy with the tour, I’ve already sent her the obligatory flowers and chocolates. And I want to stay here and get some work done. We hit the road in just a few short weeks, you know this”. 

Oh, Phil knew. He knew Dan was avoiding both of their families in the aftermath of his video and he knew Dan wanted space and time to work things out in that complicated way of his. Phil could give him that. 

“I’m going North for a few days to see Mum and the new baby. Will you be alright while I’m gone?”

And Dan-full of reassurances, we’ll talk everyday, I promise I’ll eat, I won’t play Mario Kart until sunrise, yes Phil I’ll call you if I need you, say hi to Kath for me- had kissed Phil and then pushed him out of the door of their flat and toward the waiting taxi. 

Now Phil, home from Man, was at their front door struggling to unlock it without dropping the cake tin. Finally, he pushed the door open and walked inside only to be greeted with total darkness. Phil frowned, Dan had known what time he’d be home. He was usually waiting impatiently near their front door to greet Phil, knocking the air from his lungs with an over enthusiastic hug, so happy he was to have Phil home. Instead, Phil had walked into a dark and silent flat and assumed, disappointed, that Dan had gone to bed without him. 

Phil reached for the wall switch, flicking it on and flooding the room with light. That’s when he saw Dan. Sitting dead still on the sofa in their lounge, staring forward at something Phil couldn't see, silent tears streaming down his face and wetting his shirt. 

“Dan?” Phil called his name, but Dan didn’t react except to squeeze his eyes shut as though he were in pain. 

Scared out of his mind, Phil dropped the cake tin, rushed over, and knelt in front of the sofa at Dan’s feet. Phil took both of Dan's hands from where they were laying limply in Dan's lap. 

“Dan?” Phil said softly, squeezing Dan’s hands in his. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”.

Dan’s eyes flew open then and he looked into Phil’s, whiskey meeting sky, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something but wasn't quite sure how.

“Dan.” Phil said again, rubbing one of Dan’s hands in his to warm it. Dan was freezing despite the comfortable temperature of the flat. 

Dan screwed his eyes shut as if to block out his view of Phil’s face then said, in a small and broken voice that shattered Phil’s heart “I...can’t. I can’t do this anymore”. And then he had collapsed into Phil’s arms, sobbing. 

Phil had lost track of how long he’d been sitting there, on the floor of the lounge in front of their sofa, cradling a sobbing Dan in his arms. It seemed that Dan’s tears were neverending and he had soaked the shoulder of Phil’s shirt through with them. While he made what he hoped were soothing noises and traced circles onto dan's back with the fingers of one hand, the other buried in Dan’s curls, he took stock of the man he loved. Dan was still wearing the black sweater and jeans he’d been wearing when Phil had left the flat three days ago. His curls were dirty and he smelled a bit sour. And he was so pale, his honey skin looking closer to Phil’s porcelain. While Phil held him, Dan’s stomach growled and Phil knew that the man in his arms probably hadn’t eaten, slept, or bathed for the entirety of the time Phil had been on the Isle of Man. 

FInally, Dan’s tears slowed and Phil pulled back to look at him. Tipping Dan’s chin up with one finger, Phil looked the love of his life in the eyes and saw despair. He’d seen it before, after their last tour, when Dan’s depression had been at its worst. And Phil knew what needed to be done.

He didn't ask questions, not then, as he knew Dan couldn’t or wouldn't answer. Instead he stood and held out his hand to Dan who looked at it helplessly. 

“Come with me”, Phil said firmly and took Dan’s hand to haul him up from the floor. He led Dan to the bathroom in their flat with the biggest bathtub and set to work while Dan sat on the toilet lid silently watching him. Phil gathered candles, a tangerine bath bomb, soft fluffy towels and a washcloth and started warm water running in the tub. He lit the candles and dropped the bath bomb into the water, watching it turn from clear to orange for a moment. Then he stepped over to where Dan was sitting and softly cradled Dan’s cheeks in his hands until Dan looked up at him, blinking in confusion.

“Your going to have a bath, love. I’ll help.” and standing Dan up, Phil started gently slipping off Dan’s black sweater and jeans. When he was done he led Dan by the hand to the tub and helped him step in and settle down into the warm water. Dan sighed when the water covered him, but he remained otherwise silent. 

Phil used the water glass from their bathroom sink to dip water from the tub to wet Dan’s curls, then reached for Dan’s ridiculously expensive shampoo and conditioner and set to work, He took his time washing Dan's hair, massaging his scalp and the knots in his neck as he worked. That job done, Phil wet the wash cloth and lathered it with Dan’s extravagant body wash, then carefully cleansed every inch of the man who was his heart. Afterwards, he left Dan to soak in the warm water of the tub, with the delicious scents of orange and coriander in the air, and went into their bedroom. As he had suspected, the bed didn’t appear to have been slept in since he had left for his mother’s house, half his wardrobe was strewn across the bedclothes as evidence of his terribly messy packing habits. 

He removed everything from the bed, including the bedding, and replaced their sheets with fresh ones smelling of clean from their laundry detergent. Then he went into the lounge to grab Dan’s fuzzy blanket and put it in the dryer to warm on his way to the kitchen. Dan needed to eat but Phil knew he wouldn't feel up to much yet so, instead of the large sandwich he really wanted to make, Phil blended Dan a smoothie. Something soothing that Phil might just be able to convince Dan to drink. Retrieving the blanket from the dryer, he carried it and the smoothie back to the bedroom, placed the drink on the bedside table and laid the warmed throw over the bed. He found fresh pajamas for Dan in a pile of laundry they had yet to put away, then turned off the overhead light, leaving only Dan’s moon lamp glowing softly in the corner. 

Phil went back into the bathroom and found Dan lying in the bath with his head on the ledge, eyes closed but not sleeping. Setting Dan’s pajamas on the toilet lid, he walked over to the tub, blew out the candles still burning, and pulled the plug to drain the water. Then he looked over at Dan, whose eyes were now open and staring at Phil his face impassive, and smiled gently. Grabbing a thick towel from a stack by the sink Phil walked to the edge of the bath and spoke softly, as though a louder tone would break Dan. 

“Time to dry off, love.” the endearment slipping easily off of his tongue as he took Dan’s hand in his to help him stand and step out of the tub. When Dan got like this it made Phil feel the need to be as soft and gentle with him as possible. When Dan was dry, Phil helped him into his pajamas, Dan weak as a baby from lack of sleep and food. Phil led dan into their bedroom, sat him on the bed and wrapped the warm throw around his shoulders. Dan remained silent and Phil plucked the drink from the bedside table and held the straw to Dan’s lips. Dan turned his head away and pressed his lips together stubbornly.

Phil used a finger on Dan’s chin to turn Dan's head back to him, looked him in the eye and said, firmly, “Drink it, Dan. Please.” 

Phil’s voice broke on “please”. He was barely holding it together as every time he looked at Dan, everytime he thought of what the three days Phil had been away had been like for Dan, he felt as though his heart were breaking. 

Dan took the glass and drank half of it, handed it back to Phil, then scooted down on the bed until he was laying on his side, head on his pillow, eyes closed. Phil sat the glass back down on the table, stood up and went to his side of the bed, pulling off his jeans and crawling into bed beside Dan, in just his shirt and calvins. In the soft glow of the moon shaped lamp, he pulls Dan back against his chest, wrapping his arms around him and throwing a leg over Dan’s. Phil whispers to Dan in the darkness.

“I love you” he whispers.

“You are not alone” he whispers.

“You will get better” he whispers.

“We will beat this thing together” he vows.

And sighing, Dan slips off into sleep.


End file.
